Always Moving Never Stopping
by Soaker
Summary: Hermione Weasley had many secrets from those who thought they knew her best. Her marriage to Ron is a sham. Only one person seemed to understand what was going on. The least likely person, Draco Malfoy. DMHG. DH friendly. Has violence possible adult theme
1. Defeated

Authors Notes and disclaimer:

First of all, I must let everyone know that this is my first Harry Potter fanfic ever. It is Deathly Hallows friendly. It's not Ron friendly. The relationship is Hermione/Draco. If you're still with me read on. If you're not a fan of Dramione, don't, you'll just upset yourself.

Secondly, each chapter of this story is based on a song from The City Drive's album, Always Moving Never Stopping. I don't mean it as a true song fic, because I know that this is not the interpretation they were trying to go for when writing the songs. I haven't officially asked the guys that, but I'm 99 percent sure they were not writing the songs with Draco and Hermione in mind. Anyone who has heard their music will easily recognize this. This use is not for profit, so please don't sue me TCD, the best thing you'll get is the shirt you all signed last year at Warped Tour Cincy and my copies of the Harry Potter series. I want this fic to be my tribute to my favorite band.

I am also borrowing the characters from J.K. Rowling. Once again, not for profit. I haven't done any writing in a year, and decided to do a fanfic as an exercise, to use prewritten characters. Ms. Rowling, if you for some unknown reason happen upon this story, you've been a struggling writer as well, I know you understand. Thank you for giving us these wonderful characters and plot lines.

All my love and respect go out to these wonderful artists I've already mentioned. If anyone wants to hear some City Drive songs, you can order the cd on Smart Punk, or go to their myspace. I know anyone reading this knows how to get a copy of the Harry Potter books.

Thanks!

TheBesoakd1

Defeated

Hermione Weasley had many secrets from those who thought they knew her best. One of those secrets was the truth about exactly why she was so good at healing the scrapes and bruises all the Weasley and Potter children seemed to get, even though no one remembered her ever studying healing.

Hermione had spent another night alone as Ronald and the kids had stayed overnight dispersed throughout the Burrow. No one thought it was odd as Fleur and Bill were visiting with their children as well. Only Hermione and Ron knew why it was that Hermione was alone, and that she was crying enough tears to fill the little lake near their house. Ron and Hermione were fighting, again. No one saw the truth about her so-called "fairy tale marriage." Everyone saw the two war heroes as having gotten together to have the perfect relationship, like Harry and Ginny Potter.

But the relationship wasn't perfect. Hermione was well past the point of being able to count the amount of nights she'd cried herself to sleep, or cried so hard she didn't get a wink of sleep. She couldn't count the number of times the glasses in the kitchen had been broken when thrown at her head during one of Ron's rages. Or the number of times her simple whisper of "reparo" had fixed the furniture. She was numb to it all, numb to life. She only smiled now when in public, to continue her charade of being blissfully happy with the one she loved. She knew now that Ron only loved himself, Harry, and food.

She wanted to go to Harry about the whole situation but she held back. She knew he'd never believe her unless he saw it for himself. She'd tried to get him to see past her smile to the tear tracks on her cheeks in the past, just to have him think she was joking, or dreaming. How anyone could think this was a joke she'd never know. But once Harry finally saw it, she'd be ready. He'll say "you were right." And hopefully he'd take her and the kids away. Harry had power over Ron that no one else did. He still felt guilty for having left the two of them in the woods while they were on their search for the horcruxes.

She'd tried leaving without any help, but she couldn't follow through. She loved her kids too much to leave them, even if he'd never touched them. The thought that he would finally hit them over her departure was too much for her to take.

Only one person seemed to understand what was going on. The least likely person, at least in everyone but Hermione's mind, Draco Malfoy. Her daughter Rose had become friends with his son Scorpius their first year at Hogwarts, when they had both been put into Ravenclaw. After Draco was widowed earlier in the summer, Scorpius had spent a full month living at their home while Draco put her affairs in order. When Draco had come to pick him up, Hermione was surprised by the look in the former Slytherin's eyes. She had expected a look of sadness, in mourning for his wife, but was surprised he was more interested in her than even seeing Scorpius after so long. Hermione had not had time to heal a bruise on her shoulder, when he had knocked on their door, and as she was wearing a sleeveless top she had quickly put a glamour charm on herself as she went to answer the door.

Draco had come into the house and looked at her. His eyes moved from her shoulder to her face multiple times. She had felt naked during his long perusal and was almost afraid to sit down across from him in the living room, while their children had finished packing Scorpius' clothes, even though he had been friendly since Harry had saved his life the night of the final battle.

She had known he had changed shortly after Voldemort's defeat, even going so far as to marry a muggle. Harry had whispered that it was to prove he was not a Death Eater. Hermione disagreed, his lack of a Dark Mark, and unwillingness to fight the war was enough. Hermione and Harry's own testimony had set him free. They'd had a mostly unmentioned understanding since then. Ginny's take on Draco's wife was much different. At the wedding, Ginny had leaned over to Hermione and whispered to her excitedly. "That woman could be your sister!" Hermione had noticed the resemblance as well. Like herself, Draco's bride was of shorter stature, though skinny, with wavy brown hair, and chocolate eyes. Her teeth even seemed a little on the large size, not that Hermione's were anymore.

While Hermione had been thinking back on her and Draco's past, their children had come clambering down the stairs, sounding almost like a herd of elephants. Scorpius had almost knocked Draco over in a big hug. Draco looked back at Hermione as he left their house. She tried to stand in a way so that he wouldn't be able to look at her shoulder, afraid he could see through her glamour charm. Mentally she scolded herself, knowing that she was more than proficient at that specific spell. That evening, she'd gotten an owl. It was unsigned, and even though she didn't recognize the handwriting, she knew who it was from.

"The cleverest witch of her age in this situation? It's hard to believe."

The next few nights she got more mysterious letters. All one line, none seeming to go together.

"You want it, you need it. You won't be defeated."

"Offer blood and devotion."

"Scars will heal in time."

"What goes around, always comes around."

She didn't answer the letters. Ron saw her receive them, upset she was receiving unnecessary correspondence. He got even more upset when she wouldn't hand them straight to him, even going so far as to accuse her of cheating. That was why he was at the Burrow now.

Hermione heard a faint knock at the kitchen door. She went to look out the window, and was not surprised to see Draco there. He seemed to know she was standing just inside, and that she was alone, because he started talking through the door.

"It's in motion. This is your chance. You've got to take it if you're going to make it." She stood silent for a moment, then opened the door, standing on the threshold, not truly going outside.

"Draco, I can't leave. He'll hurt Rose, and Hugo. And what will Molly think? I can't have George thinking of Ron the same way he used to think of Percy. I just can't!"

"I saw through your glamour the other day. The swelling was horrible. I can tell it's gone now. He does it often." Hermione knew this wasn't a question, although she nodded slightly. Draco had been able to read her emotions for a while now. She'd wondered many times if it was him reading her mind literally, or just knowing her so well that it seemed like he could.

The year after Draco's hearing, she had run into him in Diagon Alley. He took her to Fortescue's for ice cream, his claim was that it was a "thank you" for saving him from Azkaban. She didn't believe him, but he was being a gentleman towards her for the first time ever, and she was intrigued. They'd talked and laughed. When he walked her back to her flat afterwards, he had looked her in the eyes and claimed she didn't love Ronald Weasley. She'd disagreed, and he stated she was in love with someone else. When she asked who, he said one word, but it had more pride than anything she'd ever heard him say.

"Me." She huffed off, upset that he had purposefully ruined the first good day she'd had since she'd found her parent's had died in a car crash in Australia two weeks after she'd sent them there for their safety.

Ron had come over that night, and was trying to get her to elope with him, as he did almost daily, claiming it would be "terribly romantic", and that it would be the only way to keep the wedding out of the Daily Prophet. In a moment of weakness, upset with Draco and tired of being lonely, she had agreed. That had been the beginning of the end for her.

"Hermione, he doesn't love you. He never did. And I told you years ago that you weren't in love with him. All your life, he cut you down to size. Now it's time for you to stand up for yourself."

"But Molly and Fleur…"

"They're going to get it. Got it? Go!"

Hermione didn't listen. She walked back into her house, not a home as it held no sanctuary for her, not even the massive library. She shut the door on the man she had silently loved since she'd spied him crying in Myrtel's bathroom sixth year, and went back to knitting in front of the fireplace.

Hermione Weasley had many secrets from those who thought they knew her best.

AN: What do you think? I'll update once a week. Eleven more chapters. Please review, don't flame, but if you have any helpful criticism, I'll be glad to hear it.


	2. Runner

Draco Malfoy's whole life was based on lies. Everyone always assumed that he hated all muggleborns, because he called them "mud bloods." He didn't. They also thought he hated one Hermione Granger, because he picked on her hair and her teeth and her studious ways. He didn't. He may have disliked her at first, all pureblood children went to school disliking muggleborns, except the Weasleys. His childhood had been one of whispered propaganda. By the time he first walked onto Platform 9 ¾ he assumed he was better than all others.

It took a day to realize he was wrong.

Ironically, it was Professor Snape who helped him see the truth. The first day of Potions, Professor Snape had been asking Potter to answer questions that Draco didn't even know. But Granger did. This scared Draco, because it made her superior, so he did the first thing that popped into his head, he mocked her raised hand. Pansy had laughed, so Draco made a habit of picking on the poor Gryffindor. It gave him excuses to watch her, and he always did. He was probably the only one in their fourth year to realize she must have been given a time turner, but he didn't tell anyone.

During the Final Battle, he finally had a chance to show her the reason why he'd always been watching her. Show her that he didn't hate her, that his feeling were quite the opposite. After Potter tricked the Dark Lord into his suicide, Draco had grabbed Granger's hand, pulling her into the empty hallway where they had first met. She didn't believe his love for her. He didn't blame her.

It was twenty years later, no one had taken the place of her. Not even his wife, chosen because she looked like his favorite witch. He had known for years that if he couldn't be with the witch he loved, he would not marry a witch. After everything his father had told him, there was no way he would ever marry a pureblood. Muggle or muggleborn, nothing else for him. That would prove to his witch that he wasn't as evil as she thought.

After his wife had died, Draco had mourned her, more than he had the idiot Crabbe, or the insipid Pansy, but not as much as he would his soul mate. Dropping off Scorpius, he had realized that his love didn't look quite right. Yes, she had grown into her hair. Yes, her teeth hadn't been so big since years before school was out. It wasn't a physical difference, it was a mental. He couldn't place it. When he had picked up his son, he noticed the slight shimmer of a glamour on her shoulder, but there was nothing out of place, or overly made up about her. He realized then what had happened.

He cried himself to sleep that night. Scorpius had thought it was him still mourning for his wife, not knowing Draco was crying for the sweet witch he had fallen in love with years before.

He spent the next few days thinking constantly of the woman he loved, and how much pain she had to be in. He wondered, vaguely, if she thought of him to, he knew she had to at least once a day as he sent his owl with the letters. He only wrote a sentence or two each time, but knew she'd understand, even though he was only pulling words out of the stream of his thoughts,

At night, he dreamt of running to her. Running to take her away from the pain she'd been living in. He had the whole moment planned out. She'd say "is it really you, or am I dreaming?" He'd shake his head and quietly whisper, "you're not dreaming." Then he'd help her pack and bring her to his own house. To the manor that only years ago had been a shrine to the dark. Now it was a home, one that he would gladly share with her.

Every morning he'd awake with his pulse pounding, ready to go. This had happened for weeks. Today it was different though, today he had woken to an owl. The letter tied to it's leg had one word. "Now." Quickly he got dressed, grabbed his Firebolt, and flew to the woman he loved. Today he had a mission.

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long. Been out of town, and the internet doesn't always want to connect. Next chapter should be quicker and longer. This is just a filler chapter . Thanks for everyone's reviews, I'm so glad everyone seems to like it.


	3. Bring Me Everything

He had finally gotten to her home at dusk. She was already packed, her bags neatly stacked in the kitchen, sitting at the table sipping a cup of tea. The only reason anyone would know that she was upset was because the book that had been in her lap was now lying haphazardly on the floor. He walked in without knocking, but she didn't act surprised. There was no whisper of "you came", or anything else a damsel in distress would mutter. Hermione Granger, she'd already decided to drop the "Weasley" from her name, was a war hero, and would never be a damsel in distress.

She knew he could see the glimmer of another glamour charm, this one on her face. She hadn't healed it, because she needed someone to see it for when Harry and Ginny tried to tell her that she must be imagining it. But she could count up all the time's she'd died. Even if it was only parts of her soul slipping away from her. She laughed; the sound of it was more than a little crazy, remembering Voldemort and his horcruxes.

"Ready?" He whispered the word, like he was afraid of scaring her. She nodded. Together they got her bags together, shrunk them, and placed them in their pockets. Walking outside, she refused to look back at the house where she had lived for the last fifteen years of her life. She refused to think of her good china sitting on the shelves in the kitchen. He looked at her and frowned.

"I know this is hard, but it's for the best."

"I know," she was surprised by the smile on his face. "What?"

"The sparkle in your eye is returning." They climbed onto his broom, with her holding onto his back overly tight. She heard him grunt, but he didn't say anything about it. They took off, her smashing her face into his back, remembering flying behind Harry and Sirius on Buckbeak.

They flew for what seemed like days, but could only have been hours, as the moon was still in full view. They flew faster than she ever remembered flying before. She knew they were flying in the direction of London, but didn't know anything other than that.

"What's the plan?" She yelled over the wind.

"We're in need of one. So far it was just to get you out, which I've gladly done." They started to touch down. He took her to a muggle hotel, which surprised her. He had to have been able to tell from the look on her face. "Just work with what I say." They walked in and she sat in a comfortable chair in the lounge as he checked them in. Then he took her up the lift to the third floor, opening the door onto a very nice room with two beds, a TV, and a bathroom off to the side. She walked to the bathroom to remove the glamour, and he made his way to a table by the window, turning on the television on the way, but keeping the sound down.

"This is the biggest tub I've ever seen!" She exclaimed, walking out of the lou and into the main part of the room. He smiled a little, turning from the window.

"We're near Piccadilly Circus. I didn't want to get too close the The Leaky Cauldron, and it's only a couple of tube stops from Leister Square. There's a great little bookstore there, you'll love it. Or you can go see the plays. I heard "Sweeney Todd" is hilarious, if not a little dark. But with what you saw in the war, you'll be fine…" She cut him off by touching his arm.

"Why are you doing this for me? We always hated each other? I'm the mu…"

"Don't say it. You're just like me." She started, looking up at him. But he turned to go.

"Stay with me?"

"What?"

"Bring me everything. Get me on track. Draco, I trust you, and I need you with me."

Authors Note: Thanks again for everyone who reviewed. And to the question about the time turner in fourth year which I was asked, yes I am well aware that Hermione did not have a time turner in 4th year. It's not possible or plausible. It was written on purpose, to show that Draco did not obsess after Hermione.


	4. Saints

Draco hadn't stayed when she asked him to. He shook his head sadly and turned to leave.

"Draco?" Her voice was so quiet she was almost afraid he'd not heard her, but he turned back to face her again, his body half way out the door. "How'd we end up alone?"

"You're not alone. You've got a family at home. So do I." he sighed. "That's why I have to leave. I have to be able to look after Rose and Hugo for you. And Scorpius, of course, needs me. I'll keep him off course. I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Don't forget me."

"I won't forget the best thing I've never had." He whispered it as he left, but she heard it. She smiled, realizing she was finally safe, also realizing that he still loved her. Maybe her life would be able to turn around.

But that was a week ago. She'd stayed in Muggle London taking in plays with the money she'd found on the table near the window. She even got a job at the bookstore that Draco had mentioned to her, going by a different name, one no one would trace back to her, Cissa.

As Hermione returned to the hotel after seeing Blood Brothers with some co-workers, she was surprised to see a light underneath her door. A little afraid that it would be Ron, she used her key card to enter the door. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding when she saw Draco asleep on one of the two beds-the one she usually slept on herself. She thought about letting him sleep, but was afraid something had happened. Just as she was about to go wake him up, he woke up by himself.

"Sorry it's been so long Hermione. Ron actually had me followed by aurors on suspicion of kidnapping."

"Kidnapping! You have got to be joking."

"No. Harry's called them off though. He knows it was me who helped you escape, he still doesn't understand why and he doesn't know where you are. I wasn't sure if you wanted him to know."

"You can bring him by. How are Rose and Hugo?"

"They're fine. They are actually staying at The Burrow. Molly's ecstatic to have kids to fuss over again, well full time I mean."

"That sounds like Molly. How have you been?"

"I know you're safe. He can't get to you. Of course I'm ok." As he said this, he moved closer to her. "I just-all I need is a holiday."

"A holiday?"

"From my new vocation as a saint." She laughed, it was amusing to think of the Draco Malfoy who tormented her as a child as a saint, but she understood what he meant. Helping her like this was very selfless of him. He put himself in danger of Ron's anger and he never tried anything with her. He got up to go. "I'll be back with Potter tomorrow. I promise everything will be fine."

"Draco, stay. Please?" He shook his head, again.

"I have to stand my ground, though I wanna stay with you tonight. We have to make sure you're safe before I can. I love you. I won't forget the best thing I never had."

Author's note:

OMG, this took forever to get to work. I am so sorry! It's been a crazy couple months, I got married! Then I just couldn't get this to work. I'll be back on the once a week thing. The next one was written, but I changed this to get it to work, so I'll need to rewrite it. It shouldn't be so long though.


	5. Nightfalling

Ronald Weasley was not a happy camper. His wife was gone; she'd been missing for a month. He had to deal with his idiot children on a daily basis. He would just slap them out of the way like he did Hermione, but they weren't as proficient in glamour spells.

He snorted into his firewhiskey, no one was as good at glamours as Hermione. Even he had to admit she really was the smartest witch of their age. And helpful, it was hell having to make his own food, and clean. He should send Pig out to find her. He grabbed a piece of parchment and with a shaking hand, started to write.

"Kill her with kindness," he mumbled under his breathe as the quill touched the parchment.

"Yesterday…I promised I was never gonna take you back. Baby, don't believe me. I said it like I meant it but I overreacted. Baby, don't you need me?"

He called Pig over to him, and carefully tied the note to the small owl's leg. "Take this to the bitch. Perfect fucking Hermione." He passed out as the owl flew out the window and into the darkness.

Hours later, he woke up to Pig pecking his hand mercilessly. Surprisingly, the owl had a letter tied to his leg. It looked to have been hastily tied.

"I won't back down." There was no signature, but he recognized her perfect tiny scrawl. He swore under his breathe. Ron went to write another letter, this time planning on not being so kind, but quickly realized that in his overly drunk state he wasn't able to control the quill. But tomorrow, tomorrow he'd follow Pig on his Firebolt. The hyper little owl would lead him straight to her. By tomorrow night the ingrate would be back, and he'd be able to get back to his normal life.

Author's note: Another short chapter that took far too long to write. I've never written from Ron's point of view before, so it was rather difficult. I had it written from Hermione's point of view originally, but I couldn't get it to work out right. Please tell me what you thought about this chapter. I moved away from my comfort zone, and I want to make sure I did ok with his character (which is rather OOC, as Ron isn't a drunkard in cannon).


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